


Little Things

by fakeditfromthewordgo



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M, Fluff, background clace and malec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:33:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fakeditfromthewordgo/pseuds/fakeditfromthewordgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'“Iz,” he said slowly, putting two and two together, “did you steal my Spider Man comic?”'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Things

Simon’s favourite Spiderman comic went missing. To anyone else, this was an unfortunate mishap, something to be a little disappointed about, but, ultimately, no big deal. To Simon, this was cause to alert the police, and draw a search party together of hounds and officers. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t have either, and had to make do with a barely sympathetic Clary, and her bored Shadowhunter boyfriend (who, Simon told him repeatedly, he hadn’t actually asked to help). 

After an hour or so of fruitless searching (or lounging around, insisting he was entirely capable of finding things without getting up, in Jace’s case), Clary suggested they take a break at Taki’s. Her and Jace went ahead while he texted Isabelle, asking her to join them for his sanity’s sake. 

“It’s possible,” Jace was arguing when he sat down opposite them. He had an arm slung around Clary’s shoulders, even though they were both leaning back, glaring at each other. 

“You’re ridiculous,” was all she said in reply. “Simon. Thank God.” 

Jace rolled his eyes at her. “There is _at least_ one confirmed case of it. It could come up again.” 

“What could come up again?” Isabelle said, breezing in to sit next to Simon, giving him a quick smile before turning back to Jace, who was looking more agitated by the second. 

“Nothing,” Clary said at the same time Jace said, “Demon pox.”

Isabelle groaned at this, shaking her head. “I’m not even going to start with this.” Simon laughed, and she turned to him. “What’s up, anyway?” 

“Someone,” Simon said as mutinously as he could (which was not very), “has stolen my Spider Man comic.” 

Izzy looked at him for a moment, before laughing out loud. “Is that it? Seriously?” Simon glared at her, and she grinned. “It’s a _comic._ ” She grabbed a menu flippantly. “It’ll turn up.”

Simon stared at her incredulously for a moment, before giving up. Across the table, Jace was whispering something in Clary’s ear. “What?” 

Jace glanced at him. “Nothing.” Simon looked at Clary, waiting for her to hit Jace and explain, but she just smiled sweetly at him.

“You okay?” Isabelle asked, sounding concerned. He nodded, reaching for her hand under the table. Usually they kept the PDA to a solid zero, but it’d been a few days since he’d seen her; she’d gone with Alec to investigate some demon infestation, and they’d only gotten back a few hours ago, bloody and triumphant. He’d missed her, and when she moved so their sides were touching, their entwined hands resting on top of their thighs, he knew she’d missed him too. That fiercely independent streak was still very much alive and well, meaning she would never admit it, but Simon had learned to read the little things, and that was what counted.

* * *

 

Simon started spending a lot of time at Magnus’, looking at old heavy tomes, and generally getting in his and Alec’s way. 

“I didn’t know,” Magnus said casually, as Simon tripped over a footstool, “that clumsy vampires could exist. Until now.” Simon sighed, righting the stool before picking himself up.

“They should update the textbook,” Alec commented blithely, not even looking up to see Magnus’ smirk from his writing. 

Reseating himself in the armchair he’d been occupying so much recently, Simon sighed. “Good to see someone gets enjoyment out of my pain.” 

“Are you hurt?” Magnus arched a glittery eyebrow. 

“No, but--“

“Because that would really be something to add to the textbooks.” Alec interjected. 

Giving up, Simon returned to his book, squinting at a rune that was apparently used for balance. Of course. He flipped a few pages, waving his hand at the dust that jumped up. Across the room, Magnus snickered. Simon ignored him pointedly, picking the book up from his lap so he could look more closely at the stamina rune. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alec’s shoulders shaking with the effort not to laugh. 

“Am I doing something?” he demanded, but not too heatedly, because Magnus still scared him half to death. 

Magnus leaned against the counter closer to him, propping his chin on his upturned hand. “Why are you here, Daylighter?”

“Simon,” Alec corrected automatically, then looked surprised at himself. When Simon blinked at him, he shrugged. “Isabelle’s influence.” Simon nodded, even as Alec’s mouth opened slightly, like he was thinking ‘ _oh_ ’. 

Magnus was still looking at him, waiting for him to answer, and if it was possible for him to flush, he would have. “If I’m going to be surrounded by Shadowhunters, I should know something about them.” Magnus looked thoroughly unimpressed, but then that was his natural face set when it came to Simon. “Right?”

To his surprise, Magnus nodded, and even cracked a smile. Then he walked out, bottle-green coat flying out behind him in his briskness. Simon looked to Alec for help, but he was regarding him with a weirdly thoughtful expression, and it became clear that he was going to be no help. 

A few minutes later, a book that looked like every encyclopaedia Simon had ever seen merged into one emerged from the doorway, carried by Magnus, who could be identified only by the deep blue trousers he was wearing (they clashed horribly with his coat, but no one was about to tell him that). He hefted it onto the table, while Simon gaped, and Alec laughed. 

“I don’t suppose you want to read up on warlocks next?”

* * *

Simon was lying across his sofa on his back, propped up on an elbow and watching amusedly as Isabelle talked to her brother on the phone. 

“Yeah, alright,” she was saying impatiently, glancing at Simon. “Can we do this tomorrow? I’ll be back early.” She tapped one heeled boot against the carpet. 

She looked stunning tonight, Simon thought as his eyes raked down her body, though that was no different from normal. Whether she was wearing a full face of make-up or her hair tangled from a fight, she looked incredible, but this was one of his favourite times (second only to when he woke up first to find her sleeping in his arms), when she didn’t even think about her appearance before she came over, leaving her hair curling slightly at the ends, more often than not one of his t-shirts over ripped jeans and, gasp, sometimes even wearing flats. It had only started happening recently, but Simon knew it was a sign of her feeling more comfortable than ever around him, and he appreciated it. 

“Go back to Magnus,” she said, finality ringing in her tone. “First thing tomorrow. Promise.” She ended the call with a flourish, rolling her eyes as she flung herself down beside Simon, who had sat up upon her approach. 

“Demon pox?” he said casually, and she laughed, ducking under the arm that was held up and pressing her face into his chest. He felt the tension leaving her body as he twisted her long dark hair around his fingers. 

“No, evil spiders,” she eventually replied, resting her head against his shoulder. The film they’d been watching was still paused, but they didn’t even notice. 

Simon laughed. “About as plausible. Watch out for lizards, though I’m sure Spidey can share some antidote.” He paused. “Maybe not enough for Jace. Actually, just you.”

“I can’t believe you call Spider Man Spidey.” She laughed out loud, and Simon chose to ignore her, though she knew he was smiling. “Try not to be too romantic, though, Peter.”

“Anything for you, Mary-Jane,” he mocked, and she laughed again. Simon had a moment of pride that someone found his geek jokes funny (Clary usually just groaned and told him to stop trying, and the one time he had tried, Jace had just given him a weird look), before realising it was his girlfriend, and it didn’t really count. Then he thought about it a little more: it was his _girlfriend_. His ridiculously attractive, _Shadowhunter_ girlfriend, who sulked whenever he made a pop culture reference and only Clary understood. 

“Iz,” he said slowly, putting two and two together, “did you steal my Spider Man comic?”

She gave him a weird look. “Why would I do that?” Simon studied her. She looked like the picture of innocence, completely surprised and taken back by his accusation, but he’d learned to notice the little things. The tips of her ears were flushed, a sure sign she was lying, and his only reply was to reach out and touch one. She sighed. “I was going to give it back.” 

She ran from the room, and Simon blinked. Surely she wasn’t upset by his realisation. “Izzy--“ He was cut off when she came back, brandishing the comic in front of her. 

“Look,” she said, standing in front of him and waving it in his face. “Perfect condition. Just like it was when I found it.” Simon reached for it, taking it carefully, a little worried that she’d forget it wasn’t quite as durable when flung the air as her whip. He looked up at her, face flushed, and realised, _of course_ , she wasn’t upset. 

“I can’t believe you’ve read this,” he said, placing the comic to the side in favour of running his hands down her scarred arms. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “And you _still_ thought that was funny.” 

She hit out at him, but there was no force behind it, and he grabbed back onto her wrist, smiling as he stretched upwards to press a kiss to her jaw. “Stop it.” 

“I’m serious,” he said with a grin that suggested anything but. “That was, like, the Superman of bad jokes.”

Izzy looked at him, head tipped to one side. “Superman?” Simon grinned, pulling her close, until their noses touched. The embarrassment that had been painted across her face before had all faded away as she raised her eyebrows.

“There is so much I have to teach you,” he said, kissing her before she could protest. 

* * *

It wasn't too long after when Simon’s own secret came out. This time, they were lying in Isabelle’s bed, late at night. Isabelle had texted him when she’d gotten in from destroying a Raum demon with the others (she didn’t go into specifics, because they both knew Clary would relate the whole thing to him in detail, while Jace watched her, buzzing with quiet pride. Isabelle didn’t mind, because this time it had been Clary that’d killed it). He’d been lying awake (because it was too hot to sleep - he knew better than to worry for Izzy with a hunt that seemed so ironically mundane when compared to the events of the last year), and replied saying he was on his way. 

Unsurprisingly, she’d been asleep when he’d slipped in, lying so haphazardly, still in her black tank and shorts, that he knew she was completely exhausted, but when his arms came around her, she’d woken somewhat.

“Mm,” she turned over, pressing her face into his chest, still half-asleep. “Hey.” 

He kissed the top of her head. “Hey yourself. Everything go okay?” 

He could almost feel her rolling her eyes, but she was too tired to come back with anything sarcastic. “Yes.” 

Smiling, he let a comfortable silence fall, tracing the scars on her arms as Izzy sighed contentedly against him. His fingers followed a star-like pattern, and he frowned, sitting up slightly to look at it more carefully.  

Jostled, Izzy glared up at him. “What?” Simon was reminded of a petulant five year-old, but even that didn’t make him smile. 

“What did you need an iratze for?” 

Isabelle smiled sleepily at his butchering of the pronunciation. “ _Iratze_ ,” she corrected. “Jace thought he was faster than he actually is. It’s nothing.” 

“You’re okay? One hundred percent?” 

“Simon.” Isabelle was only charmed by her boyfriend’s completely unnecessary protectiveness when she didn’t wan to fall asleep on his chest.

Unsatisfied, Simon lay back down, now restless thinking about all the things that could somehow go wrong. It was quiet, and Isabelle’s breathing slowed until he thought she was asleep. 

“Simon,” she said again, startling him. He settled back down with a whispered apology, and she smiled again. “How did you know it was an _iratze_?”

Unlike Izzy when confronted, Simon could not come up with a quick excuse, and just like that, he was flustered. “I, uh...” She looked up, her chin resting on his chin so she could look at him. “Clary?” 

“Did you look at runes for me?” Her smile was almost blinding at this point, and Simon wondered if he’d ever seen anything more beautifully, even if her voice was laced with teasing.

“Maybe,” Simon conceded, and she kissed the tip of his nose. 

“You’re cute,” she allowed, something Simon knew was at least half sleep-deprivation (he liked to think she thought it regularly when alert). 

He frowned at her. “Is that all I get for my grand romantic gesture?” 

She huffed. “I only got more comics.” Simon laughed, and it wasn’t long until she joined in. 

“Wow, I love you.” It was awkward and fell from his lips like it had tripped over his tongue, and Simon’s mouth hung open after. There was a long silence, where it was hard to determine who looked more shocked. Simon opened his mouth just as Isabelle smiled.

“I know.” 

Simon looked at her for a long moment. “Oh my God, when did you watch _Star Wars_?”

She laughed, and kissed him deeply, all traces of sleep gone. “I love you, too.”


End file.
